


i see you as i need you to be

by etoshimura



Series: avis [1]
Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: ....ok now that its finished it feels ooc......idk where i was going w/ this, F/F, anyways its longer than those two other fics ive written. so., btw the hidekane is very very very slightly implied but im throwing it in bc GODDAMMIT i ship it too, but since i cant find it in myself to plug in my tablet ill just.....put this gayness into words, this is potentially ooc bc im better at drawing than this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:17:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6810730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etoshimura/pseuds/etoshimura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takatsuki Sen starts visiting :re.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i see you as i need you to be

**Author's Note:**

> I usually hate using first person perspective bc its so easy to make it sound distasteful, but ive been reading david levithan’s books lately and he makes it work, so im giving it a shot.
> 
> this is my first time writing femslash & idk why I hadn’t gotten to it sooner since I myself am a lesbian. Since this is f/f, rarepair AND a first person perspective fic I expect literally 0 people to read this, but if you so happen to do so kudos/comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> also, I ship these two. Not even in the cracky way ://

“Welcome. What would you like?” I hand her a menu.

She smells different.

The woman looks up from her laptop and gives an easy smile, taking it into her hands. She scans the list of drinks. “An iced coffee would be nice. With a dash of milk, please.” She does half a jazz hand with her right while holding the menu out to me with her left.

“Coming right up.” I take the menu and smile back at her. She nods, adjusts her glasses and turns back to her laptop.

The café is filled with the melody of mingling customers accompanied by background noise—standing out the most among these is her fingers tapping away at her keyboard and my heels clicking on the polished wooden floorboards.

I rejoin Yomo at the counter. He’s wiping teacups.

“Do you know her?” He doesn’t look up at me, opting instead to glance at my reflection in the polished china. He offers no response.

 

 

I make the iced coffee and stir in the milk (this does nothing to quell my suspicion about her). I leave it on her table. She expresses her thanks through a grin and enthusiastic hand-waving. I simply give my best work smile, bow, and walk away.

She’s there the entire day. She’s also the last customer to leave.

I approach. “Excuse me, miss. We’re just about closing. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.” I keep my frown as apologetic as possible and bow slightly.

She looks up. “Sorry, sorry! It’s just that I _adore_ this place!” Her face lights up. “Say, can I chat with your manager? Please?” She clasps her hands together and brings her head down in a childish plea.

I simply smile at her. We are still for several moments. She looks up.

“Woahhh… no way! _You’re_ the manager? Cool!” She beams. “I’m Takatsuki Sen. Nice to meet you.” She holds out her hand.

My smile freezes and I gape at her. “Takatsuki…?”

“Yes, yes! I see you’ve heard of me.” The same easy smile she gave hours ago makes a reappearance.

“Kirishima Touka.” I shake it. She has a firm grip.

 We let go of each other and she rests her chin on the back of her other hand. “This old café I used to go to shut down recently, and I’ve been _dying_ to find another. For inspiration, you know?” She gestures to her laptop. I nod. She continues. “Yours suits my tastes just right! Love the vibe.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

She fishes around in her purse and hands a card out to me. “You can call the number on there—it’ll put you through to my manager. I’d be happy to supply you some of my books.” I take it.

“Ah, um… Well, I don’t have a card of my own.” I bow again slightly.

She waves off my embarrassment. “No worries! Anyway, I saw your website on the sign outside.” At this, I can practically feel Yomo looking up (he’s very dedicated to the :re blog). “I’ll keep in touch with you there. Sorry for keeping you!” She packs up her things and heads out.

I pocket the card and bring out my phone.

“Hide? Come over.”

 

 

 

“Takatsuki, huh? If you ask me, she’s a bit strange… I mean, how can a horror author be so blatantly cheerful, right? ” He sips his cappucino. “Also, seriously? You don’t have a business card?”

“I never thought I would need one.”

“Well, obviously, now you do. Heck, I’ll even print some out for you. I’m really good at printing stuff.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. You don’t work for me anyways.” I turn down his offer for both our sakes, but spare a grateful smile. He smiles back. This is one of the several times I see why Kaneki likes him and almost feel bad for threatening to murder him. Almost.

“But hey,” He sets down his cup and begins counting on his fingers. “if you keep her around, she’ll bring in lots of people. If you call her, you’ll get free books for your mini-library. You might even get a date!” He beams. I try hard not to grimace (I never did tell him about Yoriko). His expression hardens.

“She might even… y’know… get Kaneki to come over here.”

She probably won’t, but that’s all it takes to convince me.

 

 

 

I tell Yomo that Takatsuki’s going to see his website. It’s the only way he’ll ever react to her name. He’s been spending more time in the backroom ever since, busying himself with blogging on the dingy desktop computer inside. Hide has taken it upon himself to design and print our business cards (“Since I love your cappuccino so much, I’m willing to sacrifice this much.”)

She visits every day and orders practically everything on the menu. I don’t see a hint of discomfort on her face. It’s all smiles with her. Her scent is intriguing and, for some reason, it doesn’t leave my mind.

“You hang out with that girl so much,” Nishiki says on a quiet afternoon. “is she your secret admirer or something? Are you seriously entertaining her?” We both know he’s joking—he’s as wary as I am. She’s an uncertainty. Not one of us knows what she is. “…You should stay away from her.” He says now, serious this time.

“Dumbass. I can’t refuse her. She’s the reason we hardly have days like this anymore.” I shoot back. “Aren’t you happy you have a bigger paycheck now?” He knows what I’ve left out unsaid. _For you and your girlfriend._

He doesn’t mention Yoriko in solidarity.

 

 

 

The most noticeable thing about her (aside from her scent) is her hair. It’s bushy and all over the place. She likes to experiment with hairstyles. When she doesn’t bother styling it, it’s usually her clothes she’s put more thought into.

“I’ve read in an interview somewhere that I’m a fashionista.” Takatsuki laughs to me on a busy day. She’s visited for long enough to make small talk. “They’re not wrong.” I don’t bother replying to her whimsy—I have customers to serve. She nods in understanding and sends me off.

 

 

Kaneki arrives on the rare occasion that :re experiences peace.

He’s Sasaki now. He comes into the café looking troubled along with two other people—probably his coworkers.

Do they know?

I want to kick the shit out of him. But then he nearly bursts into tears and makes me not want to. Hide wouldn’t want me to, either.

Hide can’t know.

Later, when he comes over, I make the latte art on his cappuccino prettier than usual. I hand it to him and refuse to meet his eyes. I’m sure he notices.

Perceptive bastard.

( _I wish you could have seen him, too. Kaneki told me you’re his Yoriko._ )

 

 

“Hey, do you want to go out to dinner sometime?” Takatsuki says out of the blue. She’s smiling, as always. Her hair is up high in a ponytail and her clothes are layered, elaborate. “I know a place.”

Even after she’s gone through the entire menu, I tread cautiously. “I’d rather not trouble you…” I give her yet another apologetic look. I’ve been handing a lot of those to her these days.

“It’s nothing at all!” She chuckles, waving her hand in the air. “Or are you busy?”

“…I’m actually studying, so.” I lie (I hadn’t gone to school since Anteiku).

Her eyes go wide. “No way! You’re a working student? That’s so cool, Touka!” She beams. This is the first time she’s called me by my first name.

I feel myself frowning internally. “Thanks.”

 

 

“Excuse me?” My stance has become rigid. I feel my knuckles go white around the tray in my hands.

She speaks in measured tones, unlike the bubbly Takatsuki I had initially known. “You—“

“Don’t.” I say curtly. “Don’t analyze me.”

She sets her chin onto the backs of her hands and flashes me a smile. It’s different from the ones she usually gives. This one feels sinister.

I scowl in return and walk away.

It’s our first fight and her last visit.

 

 

Like Kaneki and Yoriko before her, she’s gone. She doesn’t come back. The customers start slowing, too. Hide keeps the stack of business cards out of my sight. Yomo doesn’t tell me shit.

She shows up on the news with Sasaki. Her hair is cut short. She carries herself differently, like the way I last saw her. She’s calm and collected as she walks up to the podium and gives her speech.

I see her eye.

Her scent doesn’t leave my mind.

 

 

Takatsuki reminds me of Kaneki.

She reminds me faintly of Yoriko.

She’s the stand-in, and now she’s gone.

Now she isn’t what I was trying to see her as.

 


End file.
